See that Shiny Thing? Way Down There?

As Ralph mentioned, we made our base camp at Campamento Del Monte, a rustic cabin just an hours drive from Oaxaca. On the same site where we found the number for Del Monte, there was a map of the Eco Tourist area. After a bit of research, I got my heart set on a hike in Latuvi. It said we hiked to a waterfall, stopped at a trout farm/hatchery and the hike would take between 3 to 5 hours. So off we went on Sunday, with running shoes and water, ready for an adventure.


The road itself to Latuvi is an adventure in and of itself. We turned off windy Highway 175 onto a recently graded, rock and boulder infested 13 kilometer dirt track that would lead us down the side of one mountain and up another into the village of Latuvi. Stopping at the church, we got directions to the Tourist Office, at the top of a steep paved road.

The villagers sent off two little boys at a run to look for the staff, the office was open but not manned. It appeared that Manuel was not there, so they raced off to find Victoria. (We later discovered that Manuel had gone to a local farm to see a man about buying a sheep.) Victoria arrived, in uniform and breathless and apologetic. Did we wait long? Only 15 minutes, which in Mexico considering we arrived in a small town with no reservation was a bit of a miracle.

I showed her my handy print out, asking if we can hire a guide to walk "El Mochote" trail. She gets on her radio and makes the arrangements. We will meet our guide on the road; Victoria would walk with us for a bit of the way. 130 pesos is the fee for the guide. We hand it over, lock the car, and head out.

6 hours later, Ralph took this picture. See the little shiny thing between the hills? That was the trout farm where we stopped to eat. The man who lives there, Senior Natcho, and his family run the trout farm and have a few tables set up for people to eat at. I watched as Senior Natcho extracted my fish from his holding pool. I'm not sure if it was the fact that I had just literally scaled mountains, walked across rivers on logs, ate the bulb of a wild orchid or drank water directly from a river for the first time in my life, but it was the best trout I have ever had in my life. Ralph, who does not usually love fish, devoured his. We left the family and their trout and their little magical piece of valley full and happy.

We had walked at least as far past the trout farm to get to a lovely water fall. Manuel, our outstanding guide, took my needs for a break ("un momentito, Manuel, por favor." I panted) to explain about the local flora and fauna, it's traditional uses, customs and growing conditions. The day would not have been the same without Manuel. Although he commented that the trail was difficult for me, he never lost his patience. He was pleased and surprised when I did not fall into the river when he asked me if I could cross the log that bridged it. (Hurray for yoga!)

At the end of our trip back up the hill to the town, Ralph walked ahead to go and get the car and bring it down to the church, at least I would not have to scale the last cement slope, which Ralph said was the worst of the whole day. Manuel and I walked slowly, bellies full of trout, chatted about the birds, the land, the people and our lives.

Yet another magical day in Mexico.